


impatience

by sailo_rjune



Series: hinata-kun one shots [5]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Feelings, IT'S REAL, It's sexual, M/M, No V3 spoilers, awkward confessions, butthurt, hinata-kun spoilers, implied ot3, like they don't even pull their dicks out but, poetry...kind of?, rantaro is barely in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailo_rjune/pseuds/sailo_rjune
Summary: ...Shuuichi was dangerously in love with Ouma’s body.Enough to not really care about the fact that he had Ouma bent over a wood pile in broad daylight outside the house where literally everyone they knew was just like, hanging out inside.Ouma was overwhelmed.Perpetually impressed.But overwhelmed.This was like when they first kissed.Every one of the nine seconds of what they shared in private before Rantaro stormed their bedroom and turned it into an s&m orgy....





	impatience

**Author's Note:**

> i love these boys?
> 
> like so much?
> 
> i wanted them to like take a bath in lube but then they got all emo on me. idk if this is fluff, probably not since they're both super horny the whole time heh
> 
> additional tag: typical emotionally damaged danganronpa children

 

 

 

Things had been getting…interesting between them for a while.

 

 

They’d been fucking for a bit by this point.

 

 

Kind of.

 

 

Not like this.

 

 

Not this focused. Not this real. Not this fucking _sober_ for fuck’s sake.

 

 

Shuuichi was drowning him in it and Ouma was a little bit panicky.

 

 

_Unprepared?_

 

 

They’ve both taken pieces of what they got from Rantaro.

 

 

Shuuichi was impatient.

 

 

He was dangerously in love with Ouma’s body.

 

 

Enough to not really care about the fact that he had Ouma bent over a wood pile in broad daylight outside the house where literally everyone they knew was just like, hanging out inside.

 

 

Ouma was overwhelmed.

 

 

Perpetually impressed.

 

 

But overwhelmed.

 

 

This was like when they first kissed.

 

 

Every one of the nine seconds of what they shared in private before Rantaro stormed their bedroom and turned it into an s&m orgy.

 

 

And now there were minutes going by.

 

 

And this wasn’t Rantaro.

 

 

This was _Shuuichi_.

 

 

Shuuichi was a demonic dominating fuck boy when Rantaro was involved. Literally torturing Ouma’s small body with every trick he knew. And he knew a lot.

 

 

Alone…Shuuichi was a different kind of insufferable monster. The kind that saw straight through him and still loved his weak ass.

 

 

Shuuichi hadn’t explicitly said it, but with every look, every _kiss_ , the way he gripped Ouma to his body, curling around him every time they were alone… Things had gotten intense between them too many times to count by now and this situation wasn’t any different.

 

 

It was the last thing Ouma could desperately grasp for in his desire to hold anything over the other boy.

 

 

Ouma pushed him away and tried to stand up, but Shuuichi kept his legs firmly planted around the boy’s thigh, not moving an inch.

 

 

Bright golden eyes were boring into glassy violet and there was a

 

 

_pause._

 

 

Full of so many unspoken things.

 

 

Ouma looked away first. Staring intently at their feet and the orange leaves piled around them.

 

Shuuichi wasn’t having it.

 

 

He used his whole hand along Ouma’s jaw to turn his face back up, firmly, not letting him look away.

 

 

Shuuichi closed his eyes, moving his face to close the tiny distance between their lips. He could feel Ouma press into him but not enough to push him away. He could feel and taste the boy’s moans against his lips. Their warm wet _softness_ and the way Ouma fucking _fit_ every part of his body.

 

 

He already knew what was going through this infuriating brat’s head. He knew that being gentle with him was a mindfuck for Ouma. And Shuuichi Saihara was a little bit sick enough to think that the shorter boy deserved to be messed with like this.

 

 

Ouma Kokichi’s massive superiority complex was something well known to everyone except Ouma. Letting him take that little piece of emotional leverage was part of Shuuichi’s plan anyway.

 

 

He let the smaller boy push him away again, but only bare inches because he wanted to see this and burn it into his mind. Every part of his beautiful face and beautiful voice…

 

 

It wasn’t untrue at all. Shuuichi Saihara had fallen in love with this fucking twerp. A _while_ ago.

 

 

Ouma looked fucking precious. Nerves raw across his small features. Magenta and electric indigo melded there in his violet eyes as his tears built up over them.

 

 

It was one of those days that were totally overcast but the sky was brighter than anything you’d ever see on a clear day. It was pure white and Shuuichi would never forget pale trembling lips, wet from their kiss. _Kisses_. How the tips of Ouma’s eye lashes could be seen for what they really were in the brightness around them. The darkest shade of purple. Thick and damp and beset with beads of tears that were

 

 

_reflecting everything._

 

 

The way Ouma’s immaculate white coat and scarf and gloves were so fucking extra. And how it all was stupidly perfect and beautiful against the chill air and the blurry greens and browns and reds and oranges around them in this place.

 

 

The way Ouma’s hair had grown and fell down between his fingers in long glossy strands. He could have Ouma’s real eyes in private, but this black hair was something that couldn’t be helped in the life they were living now. He knew Ouma hated it and he knew that he himself actually missed that stupid grape mop the boy used to have. So he buried his face in it and breathed it in and told him it was beautiful even though he knew he might be derailing everything from the confidence Ouma had been building up in that _look_.

 

 

For the twentieth time today, Ouma pushed Shuuichi away and looked at him like he always did. Like he was about to say something but then he freezes and doesn’t know what to do. And it didn’t help that whenever Shuuichi got him alone that Ouma’s inability to just fucking _say it_ generally led to Shuuichi making love to him for hours to the point where he completely fell apart under him, flushed and lost for words.

 

 

Ouma was fucking determined though. Even if he was staring at the ground again. Or maybe at how Shuuichi’s thigh was right up in there, making his coat ride up, warm and solid against him.

 

 

Ouma would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting hard right now.

 

 

The smaller boy shook his head back and forth, frustrated and embarrassed with himself and of course fucking Shuuichi was just chuckling softly, still staring directly at him with those stupidly pretty golden eyes.

 

 

His hair was so much more suited to this awful color.

 

 

Shuuichi was _too_ pretty. His silky hair fell all around his face perfectly. It was a fucking charm point the way his swaying fringe would catch on his eyelashes. They way _all of that_ fucking felt, lightly brushing against the nape of Ouma’s neck in the middle of the night.

 

 

The way Shuuichi’s beautiful fingers felt, sometimes holding him down roughly and sometimes making Ouma feel like he was being worshipped like a piece of art with the way they ran over every part of him that the taller boy could reach.

 

 

 _“God you piss me off.”_ Ouma said under his breath.

 

 

_No no no…that’s not what I’m trying to say._

 

 

Shuuichi was aware though. And probably _the most patient_ person in the fucking world. _A saint of patience_.

 

 

“Ouma.” Shuuichi said softly, leaning even closer to the Ouma’s lips. Their breath was visible in the chill air and they both could see the way it was swirling together as they exhaled against each other’s faces. Ouma could feel the warmth of it against him and how the tears around his eyes felt so cold in contrast. He refused to blink and set them free though. So they stared at each other for another moment.

 

When Shuuichi kissed him deeply in these moments, it wasn’t to keep Ouma from talking. It was to shut up the boy’s thoughts that had him petrified in Shuuichi’s arms every time. It was to set him free from his inner conflict and…it was also how impatient Shuuichi felt around him. He felt like maybe he was starting to understand what Rantaro had felt for _him_ all these years. _An addiction_. But more than that, an obsession with seeing what this boy might do, because of him. Because of what Shuuichi could _do_ to him. It was insatiable and sick and thickly coursing through his veins every time he saw Ouma.

 

 

When the three of them were together, Shuuichi’s persistent underlying bitterness towards Rantaro always surfaced and manifested in violently wild sex that sometimes left them with _actual_ injuries. It was fucking hot though so it wasn’t something any of them cared to change. It was a phase Rantaro and Shuuichi were going through and Ouma was along for the ride.

 

 

It was however kind of nuts for Ouma because…Rantaro or Shuuichi alone with him was literally like night and day from how they were when they were all together. It really made Ouma wonder how exactly things went when it was just Shuuichi and Rantaro, without him. Those privately enshrined parts of them that he’d never see.

 

 

The aftermath was always plain to see. Shuuichi stumbling and weak and strained, covered in purple bruises head to toe. Rantaro looking and acting like a smug bastard. His back had perpetual streaks of red cuts from the way Shuuichi was constantly leaving them day after day. The way they were more relaxed in those moments than any other part of their fucked up days.

 

 

Rantaro and Shuuichi were never really affectionate towards one another from what Ouma could see, on the outside or in their bedroom. But they had this inseparable atmosphere around them. A closeness that was unique and unrivaled. Basically, whatever mysterious shit that existed between Rantaro and Shuuichi, _stayed_ between Rantaro and Shuuichi behind closed doors.

 

 

Obviously this drove Ouma up a fucking wall. Inside.

 

 

Half the time he tried to convince himself that this was a matter of course. That he knew this coming into this relationship. That it wasn’t any different from before except now he was _here_. He was fucking lucky to be here. With them. He tried to value the unique connections he had with each of them and with both of them. But it was eclipsed in vain by how Ouma suffered over his jealousy. How it made his chest hurt.

 

 

And getting this close to Shuuichi after everything was making that shit even worse. It was bad enough to be jealous of one person. It was stranger to fall in love with that person. And then to repeat the whole emotional rollercoaster with this change messily, _messily_ incorporated.

 

 

It was too much.

 

 

This was not however what Ouma was trying to say right now even though it ate at him fucking constantly.

 

 

A race was going on right now between them. And Shuuichi was on the last stretch, slowing down and reaching back to him. Not concerned at all about who was going to win this shit.

 

 

It pissed Ouma off, and inadvertently or not, he had said so.

 

 

Ouma physically shoved him back with a palm to the middle of the boy’s chest while hooking his ankle around Shuuichi’s. Shuuichi fell to the ground with a glorious look of surprise that morphed into an inevitable wtf expression right before he smashed back into the piles of leaves behind him. The dry leaves shot up and then fell in softly jagged trajectories back down to rest across his body.

 

 

Shuuichi always wore black and now he was stained in all these awful fall colors. He was gasping to regain his breath and giving Ouma some kind of death stare. It was beautiful.

 

 

_It’s kind of perfect._

 

 

Ouma was sick in his own way. They were all sick. But it was definitely something they truly loved about each other.

 

 

Shuuichi hadn’t anticipated this particular sort of reaction but it was amusing as hell. He went along with it and pretended to be offended when Ouma toppled down onto him.

 

 

_What is this boy doing to me?_

 

 

Shuuichi thought about this more than he liked to admit. That Ouma was changing something inside him. Specifically in the way Shuuichi was starting to see him. It was distinctly different from how it was at first. Whenever you want to start counting back to what might be considered _‘first’_ for them.

 

 

In hindsight, it was a very long road of mostly total bullshit.

 

 

At any rate, the jealousy went both ways now. Ouma had given his entire life to Rantaro. Literally. He had done something that Shuuichi would never even want to be capable of.

 

 

He thinks about it a lot.  He really doesn’t even know if Rantaro had come to him that night…if he would have dropped everything and followed Rantaro Amami into his own sad hell.

 

 

Somehow he knows that he would have. But that’s not what happened and it wasn’t something that could easily be explained.

 

 

_When it comes to Rantaro._

 

 

The boy with the sparkling green eyes and smile that slays…the unapologetic and slutty, _petty_ motherfucking boy that took Shuuichi’s heart before he even realized it...

 

 

_Yea. There’s no way. I would have done it too. Even if it ruined me. Even if it meant blood on my hands. Even if it meant **this shit**._

 

 

The thing about knowing how Rantaro’s mind works though…it wasn’t that he doubted Shuuichi or forsake him…it was that Shuuichi was on a pedestal in Rantaro’s mind and Ouma was fucking on hand and easy to manipulate.

 

 

Shuuichi could never tell Ouma this.

 

 

Ouma felt _chosen_.

 

 

Even if it eventually bled through that it was literally because he was ready and willing…to do those things. That Ouma couldn’t fully fill the hole left in Rantaro’s heart. That he couldn’t fix him by himself. That he was a poor replacement. That Rantaro had been dying inside and there was nothing Ouma could do to stop it.

 

 

And Rantaro had forsaken _himself_ in his decisions. For him it was a situation where shit was going to hit the fan and there was no question that he’d rather cut ties with Shuuichi than drag him into everything. To him, it was a pure act of love. But everyone involved knew that this was fucking selfish and stupid because _Rantaro_ was the one dragging everyone into the abyss that was his insanity and desires.

 

 

So in the vein of just letting Ouma assume things about this whole fucked up relationship, Shuuichi wasn’t doing the thing where he takes control of Ouma’s silence with his whole body. He was waiting patiently because reaching back on the final stretch was getting depressing.

 

 

He didn’t want to wait any more.

 

 

And yea, it was a fucked up thing to feel. Something so preciously new and real and undeniable. Blossoming. Ouma started filling him with warmth quite a while ago and it was making Shuuichi rethink a lot of things in his life on a daily basis.

 

 

He pulled Ouma down and pressed his lips to his ear, speaking softly, _“Ouma…”_ Shuuichi’s breath hitched and the way he had been feeling amused this whole time just shattered. _How did you crawl into my heart like this?_

 

 

He was too proud to plead with the smaller boy hovering over him against that fucking blinding sky. There was no visual distinction between Ouma’s clothing and the white above… _dude your face is just like, floating there_. Shuuichi wondered if he had hit his head.

 

 

The silence and racing hearts dragged on for too long. Shuuichi pulled Ouma tighter to him until their bodies were pressed together and their faces were fully out of view with the leaves piled around them. The word _‘please’_ was on the tip of his tongue when

 

 

Ouma rolled into him with his hips and his tongue was in Shuuichi’s mouth before he could say anything.

 

 

He couldn’t help it. His hands immediately ran straight down to grip Ouma’s ass. To pull him down into him as if the boy wasn’t doing enough on his own.

 

And Ouma was doing plenty. He had one hand roughly in Shuuichi’s hair, pulling the boy’s head back so he could bite and scrape his teeth all down his neck. He was being cruel about it too. There would be marks, the deeply colored ones that Shuuichi loved to wear.

 

 

Their parents were in the fucking house right next to them so Shuuichi also had very nearly swallowed his own fist to silence himself. They both knew that if they were alone in their room back in the city right now that Shuuichi would be making all kinds of shameless sounds.

 

 

Finding this out about Shuuichi shouldn’t have been such a shock because Ouma had been hearing them fuck across the hall for god knows how long. But experiencing it first-hand was something Ouma had not been prepared for and still felt messed up over. That voice went straight to Ouma’s dick and made his face give every part of it away in an expression that made the boy under him smirk and bite his lip.

 

 

Ouma smirked back and ran his other hand down between their bodies. Shuuichi was ready, he could feel it. Ouma ran one finger down Shuuichi’s length straining against the boy’s pants and brought his hand back up with his palm pressing in against the fabric. He palmed him up and down- again and again, pressing harder and harder.

 

 

Ouma smiled at the tears forming in Shuuichi’s eyes. Ouma had been on the verge of tears this whole time.

 

 

Ouma let go for a moment and then substituted his painful palming for an intentionally light touch, moving his fingers up under Shuuichi’s shirt, across his lower belly from hip to hip along the waistline of his boxers peeking up from under his loose sweats.

 

 

Ouma was still smiling the whole time as he cheerily asked Shuuichi to blow him. But in the Ouma way where it’s rhetorical af.

 

 

_He could have just said “blow me” for all the room left for negotiation in that ‘question.’_

 

 

Shuuichi spared a split second to really consider their surroundings.

 

 

 _“Here?!?”_ he squeaked right as Ouma’s fingers had found his nipple under his shirt, squeezing him. He had licked his fingers and now they were rolling over a place that kind of drove Shuuichi mad.

 

 

This was another vestige of Rantaro’s hold over Shuuichi’s body. It wasn’t by chance that Shuuichi Saihara had _the most sensitive nipples ever_. It was because Rantaro had made him that way over the last five years. Shuuichi jammed his hand right back over his mouth because Ouma was being relentless.

 

 

Shuuichi wanted to scream Ouma’s name. His full fucking name.

 

 

Ouma’s fingertips were small and it felt like his tongue, but like three of them all at once and Shuuichi’s eyes were rolling back. He already knew that Rantaro had showed Ouma more than several times how Shuuichi could come just like this and the fucking brat was smiling down at him, bending down to lick the tears that had built up along Shuuichi’s lashes. They were long and soft and salty sweet against Ouma’s tongue and he moaned right there into the boy’s closed eyes as he pinched Shuuichi _hard_ under his shirt.

 

 

Shuuichi was cursing his existence as a moan ripped right out of his mouth, barely muted by the back of his hand. He kind of broke. Shuuichi yanked Ouma’s hand out from under his shirt and grabbed the boy’s other wrist at the same time. He had been so still under him this whole time and he couldn’t take it anymore. And maybe he was a little angry too.

 

 

Ouma was smiling and a soft laugh came out in a single syllable as Shuuichi flipped him onto his back under him. Shuuichi had Ouma pressed down into the leaves that were literally coating their bodies now. He held the boy’s wrists over his head and even though there were things they should definitely be talking about right now, Shuuichi’s body was filled with impatience. Addiction. To this boy’s body.

 

 

_Ouma has such a good body._

 

 

_God damn._

 

 

Shuuichi’s eyes had gone dark and his expression had turned into something erotic quite some time ago. He could care less about the whole broad daylight / family vacation going on around them right now.

 

 

He could even forgive all the leaves now. He wanted Ouma’s pants off, like yesterday.

 

 

Ouma’s coat was long and Shuuichi sat up to carefully open it. Apparently Ouma had thrown it on as a bathrobe or something because Shuuichi smiled uncontrollably when he saw that Ouma had nothing on from the waist up.

 

 

 ** _“Jesus christ, Ouma.”_** _Are you trying to kill me?_ Shuuichi stared down at the boy in admiration at his fucking audacity, wondering if he planned this whole fucking thing. _I love you_.

 

 

_I love your body._

 

 

Ouma knew that Shuuichi had developed some interesting obsessive tendencies where his body was concerned. Bath time was Shuuichi’s favorite fucking thing. He treated Ouma like a precious doll and even though most of it was to make up for him and Rantaro just like totally wrecking him, all of it was intensely special. Shuuichi washed him like he was a baby and wrapped him in soft towels and treated all his sex wounds and literally spent an hour moisturizing every part of Ouma’s skin. It was superbly fucked up. And adorable.

 

 

Shuuichi grinded down into the smaller boy, catching any sounds he might have made with his mouth. He was done doing what Ouma wanted in this situation. He teased Ouma’s tongue with the ball of his tongue ring for two seconds before pulling nearly out of reach and running it over the boy’s bottom lip. Shuuichi bit him then, pulling Ouma’s lip into his mouth, sucking and dragging his teeth in a way that _almost_ hurt.

 

 

 _Shuuichi knows how to do everything fucking right when it comes to this shit._ Ouma sent a little prayer up in thanks for Rantaro creating this monster pinning him down right now.

 

 

Shuuichi ground into him again, lightly and too far away. Ouma groaned miserably, and neither of them did anything to silence it. And then they were laughing because this was so fucking inappropriate and they both knew it.

 

 

Shuuichi sat up on his knees between Ouma’s parted legs, reaching down to grip Ouma by his fucking fly. Fluidly moving his other arm around Ouma’s waist, Shuuichi yanked Ouma up onto his lap. Ouma didn’t have time to react and Shuuichi fucking loved the way his back arched until he was flush against him.

 

 

Shuuichi just held him there and watched Ouma’s face until the boy was starting to question what exactly was going on now. Shuuichi was supposed to be blowing him by now and he was like, sitting in his lap with his coat hanging off one bare shoulder.

 

 

Shuuichi still had his one hand holding the button of Ouma’s jeans.

 

 

_These fucking jeans._

 

 

They were extremely low cut.

 

 

It was always hilarious to Shuuichi that out of his two friends, Rantaro dressed like a prude and was a complete slut, and Ouma dressed like a slut and was a complete prude.

 

 

It made Shuuichi want to ruin him. On so many levels.

 

 

He used his grip there to pull Ouma even closer, pinning him to his chest with his other arm around his waist. In this position, Shuuichi had to look up a little to meet Ouma’s eyes. He hoped that maybe this would make it easier?

 

 

“I’ll blow you after you tell me whatever it is you’ve been trying to say to me.” Shuuichi’s voice was firm and his eyes were _kind_ and they were both _still hard?_ and

 

 

_this FUCKING SUCKS._

 

 

Ouma tried to squirm away and Shuuichi wouldn’t let him go.

 

 

_No fucking way am I letting you go, you little shit._

 

 

It showed on Shuuichi’s face and Ouma scowled brilliantly at him. But then he bit his lip and looked away, still inadvertently trying to squirm away. Shuuichi really wanted to laugh but he didn’t.

 

 

Ouma’s face got as serious as it gets and he turned to him with this kind of heartbreaking fragility that made Shuuichi’s heart take a dive into the mess of butterflies that still ate at him through all the lust he felt around this stupid boy.

 

 

He could only meet that face with raw fucking gratitude and Shuuichi felt different kinds of tears welling up in his eyes. The kind that sort of hurts inside. Not the kind he was far more used to, like the kind that inevitably build up when you’re gagging on a dick.

 

 

Shuuichi willed his impatience into check. This had to come first, as much as he wanted to just make Ouma come already. To see him wrecked underneath him and to do it over and over until one of them passed out.

 

 

Ouma brought his forehead down to Shuuichi’s with his eyes closed. It was too fucking precious. Shuuichi felt so cliché and like a vanilla ice cream melting on a hot sidewalk when Ouma began to speak quietly.

 

 

“I’ve been wanting…” Ouma paused, biting his lip and the smaller boy pulled Shuuichi even further around him as he shrank into his hold. “I’ve been wanting to ask you…”

 

 

Ouma groaned and arched in the taller boy’s thin arms just enough to crane his neck to reach Shuuichi’s lips with his own. Shuuichi sat there stunned and let Ouma kiss him softly until his nerves calmed again. He didn’t mean to, but his hands were moving on their own along Ouma’s back. In a gentleness that surprised both of them.

 

 

Ouma held him close and rested his head on his shoulder. The boy’s breath came out unevenly against Shuuichi’s neck and he was trying so hard not to just carry Ouma into the house like that, all the way to their room, to throw him on the bed just like this, covered in leaves and half way dressed in a ridiculous coat. He sighed out into Ouma’s hair and the boy moved his head a little to press his lips against Shuuichi’s throat. They moved there, brushing over the taller boy’s skin, making it prickle under Ouma’s lips.

 

 

Between soft kisses, Ouma formed the rest of his words and Shuuichi hated how much he had come to like the sound of Ouma’s voice. How it went from annoying to _hot_ in a single afternoon two months ago.

 

 

He remembered how Ouma’s lips looked when this whole thing started. Pale, parted and wet. And now they were moving against his neck while Ouma finally got over his shit.

 

 

 _“Shuuichi.”_ Ouma said his name and Shuuichi felt a chill move right up his spine. To Shuuichi in that moment, he felt like if there were a strong enough breeze, Ouma would disappear. The boy in his arms curled even more impossibly _into_ him and buried his lips against Shuuichi’s neck.

 

 

“How…”

 

 

_One long kiss. Is he even breathing?_

 

 

                “do you…”

 

 

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…eight, **nine** soft kisses. God this boy is going to kill me._

 

 

Ouma pushed Shuuichi back and looked him evenly in the eye. The glassy melting neon was gone. It was that crystalline, _other_ thing. So many shades of purple crashing together.

 

 

That rare fucking honesty.

 

 

This was a face Shuuichi loved.

 

 

Ouma cocked his head, blinked slowly and broke the silence.

 

 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you, how do you feel about…me?” Ouma’s face had turned absolutely pink and Shuuichi was really, _really_ trying not to laugh right now. It was so cute?

 

 

_What the hell?!_

 

 

Shuuichi broke down enough to hold Ouma tightly before shaking and then cackling and then totally not letting him go…Ouma was really about to fucking hit him before Shuuichi pulled back and darted in between Ouma’s arms to kiss him, rolling him into the leaves onto his back.

 

 

It was violently suffocating.

 

 

Half way through this fucked up, _deep_ kiss, Shuuichi was wondering how the fuck Ouma _didn’t_ know how he felt about him with everything they had been doing together…lately. And Ouma, overwhelmed as fucking always, was just thrown for a complete loop but ultimately at the mercy of the demon currently straddling him.

 

 

Ouma did nothing to push him away and Shuuichi was just fucking done with waiting. The lifelessness underneath him was ruining it though.

 

 

Shuuichi pushed Ouma’s arms over his head and hovered over him. He pressed Ouma’s elbows right into the ground, not letting him look away. Bringing one hand down, Shuuichi brushed Ouma’s hair away from his face. He slowly lowered himself to touch his forehead to the other boy’s. He sighed and closed his eyes, swallowing and _really_ fucking trying not to just grind into him right now.

 

 

“Ouma.” Shuuichi said, slightly above a whisper. Enough so it stilled the boy’s thoughts. Ouma momentarily forgot how to breathe, and Shuuichi had one more pained sigh exhaled warmly against their cold faces before he went on.

 

 

Or at least tried to. He had moved slightly to press his cheek against Ouma’s, to smell his hair and whisper into it. But when he looked up, Rantaro was fucking strolling towards them with the widest smile. Like he knew this was something amazing he was seeing and wasn’t going to let it go.

 

 

Shuuichi sighed for a third time, but this one was completely exasperated.

 

 

_Fuck this._

 

 

He pushed Ouma back and spun him around before the boy could get out half a screeched, _‘what the fuck, Shuuichi.’_

 

 

 _“Oh.”_ Ouma said and quietly got up, failing utterly at modesty by wrapping his coat only around his waist, letting the top hang half way down his back after everything they had been doing. Their hair was fucked and they had leaves all over them. Shuuichi even had places along his neck that were bleeding a little from the way Ouma had been biting him.

 

 

Ouma reached down to help Shuuichi up. He feigned letting him go half way up and laughed at the face Shuuichi made when he thought he was going to fall on his ass.

 

 

“Dick.” Shuuichi breathed out, laughing.

 

 

As Ouma pulled him up, the shorter boy was fucking beaming at him and shamelessly adding a completely unnecessary, “just kidding, I’ll never let you go, Shuuichi.”

 

 

Rantaro was there now and he found Shuuichi a blushing mess and Ouma half way dressed in the fucking yard looking like…

 

 

“Did you guys fuck out here?” Rantaro’s eyes were lit. up. Shuuichi just squinted at him.

 

 

“Yeah. We did. It sucked.” Ouma said this and both of the taller boys whipped their heads towards him. Shuuichi was in complete shock, slightly offended, and Rantaro was the beaming idiot now.

 

 

Shuuichi pushed Rantaro aside and continued into Ouma, pushing him off balance and then delicately catching him in this completely _unfair_ fucking _romantic_ hug. Shuuichi pressed his lips against the shell of Ouma’s ear, biting it once softly. “Ouma, I swear to god I’m not going to let you sleep until you know within an inch of your stupid fucking life that it never sucks with me.”

 

 

“Hahh?” Ouma said, too loudly and without any grace at all.

 

 

“I love you, dumbass.” Shuuichi said this loud enough for Rantaro to hear and then kissed Ouma on the cheek before letting him go, where he fell right back on his ass. Shuuichi kept walking back to the house, smiling to himself as he let the other two fall behind.

 

 

Rantaro caught up to him though, carrying Ouma on his back and they were already talking about all the shit they wanted to eat for lunch.

 

 

Some things were exactly the same as they had been since they were kids.

 

 

Shuuichi felt a warm pressure in his chest… _and some things are changing us forever_.

 

 

He loved both of these pricks. Intensely.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ~thank you for reading~ 
> 
> your comments and kudos mean the world to me <333


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